


Sleep Baby Sleep (I'll Lie Next To You)

by kurtcobain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abused Sam, Brother/Brother Incest, Caring Dean Winchester, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Incest, Loving John, M/M, Mute Sam Winchester, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sibling Incest, Soul Bond, Wincest - Freeform, crazy mary, mute!Sam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-10 09:13:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6977230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurtcobain/pseuds/kurtcobain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where God decides your soul mate upon their birth, Sam and Dean are chosen to belong to one another. </p><p>When Mary decides she does not want this to be the fate of her two boys, she gives Sam away to an orphanage that is known for selling their children as prostitutes and fakes Sam's death.</p><p>Sixteen years later, Sam is found and is sent home to live with Dean. </p><p>Will Dean's love for his brother heal Sam's broken psyche?  Or are they doomed to have a failed relationship from the start?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [My Soulmate's Secrets](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3558917) by [darkroses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkroses/pseuds/darkroses). 



> Based off of "My Soulmate's Secrets" By darkroses.  
> I did not like how Dean treated Sam throughout the majority of the work, so I decided to create my own version to satisfy myself.
> 
> Title is from the song "Sleep Baby Sleep" By BROODS.

Since Dean was four years old, he has had the name Samuel Winchester etched into the skin under his collar bone. This name was a mark from God, and it could never be removed by any physical means. As could be expected, his parents weren’t thrilled with this outcome. Having a soul mate within your own family was a rare occurrence, one that many people found taboo. Having a soul mate that was your _brother_ was even rarer. However, since it was a sign from God himself, most never dared to go against what the man upstairs had planned.

But, while John had tried to console the despairing mother with words of faith and tender touches, Mary was busy plotting a way to separate the two boys forever.

To her, the plan was simple. She was going to burn Dean’s name from Sam’s collarbone, therefore destroying the bond between the two. What she had failed to realize was that a soul mate bond can never be removed forcefully. The skin will simply heal over the area and the name will reappear upon the scar left behind.

Mary had tested her theory on a day when Dean and John had went out shopping, leaving her and Sam alone. She had restrained Sam from flailing by swaddling him tightly in a blanket and feeding him two Advil tablets, effectively knocking him out cold. She held an open flame up to the mark, and let the skin on Sam’s collarbone melt away.

Dean had sensed the pain his brother was in due to their connection through soul mate bond, but when he asked his father about it John had just shrugged it off.

“Sam’s probably having some heartburn buddy, don’t worry too much about it, okay?”

Trusting in his father’s judgment, Dean had let it drop.

Back at home, Mary was satisfied with her work. Not wanting to have a squalling mess of a child when Sam woke up, she covered the scabbed over area with a medicinal cream and bandage. In order to hide it from Dean and John she placed Sam into a high-necked onesie.

About a week later, a week filled with Mary hogging the baby and an uncomfortable Dean (“Why does Sammy’s chest hurt all the time? I don’t like it.” “I told you buddy, it’s just heartburn. He’ll grow out of it some day.”), Dean and John left the house together once more. Mary had decided it was about time to check on her work anyways, and this gave her the perfect opportunity to do so.

She had slowly removed the bandage from Sam’s chest, but howled in rage once she tossed the gauze to the floor. There, in swirling black ink, was the name ‘Dean Winchester’ printed over and angry, red scar. Her plan had failed. She couldn’t believe it, how could God allow her sons to be soul mates?

To her, only one option remained: Sam had to go.

She packed a small bag filled with diapers, wipes, formula, and a bottle, and set out on her small journey. She was headed East, about 20 miles outside of Lawrence, Kansas, into a small town known as Rosewood. There wasn’t much in the town, and only one place was of importance to Mary.

The orphanage.

The orphanage wasn’t anything special, it was a modest little building that most would pass by without a second glance. The outside was covered in peeling yellow paint, a few of its shutters were falling off, and some of its walls were hidden by tendrils of ivy.

A small, rusted sign hung above the door. It read: “Talbot’s Home for Unwanted Children”.

Parking across the street, Mary removed Sam and the bag from the car. Nervously, she shuffled up to the front door. She placed Sam on the front step by the bag, knocked on the door, and ran back to her car.

She didn’t want to be seen by anyone in the orphanage on the off chance that John would come to Rosewood looking for Sam. This way, she couldn’t be connected to scene and no one would know who Sam belonged to.

Not looking back once, Mary sped off to put part two of her new plan in place.


	2. The Fire

Once Mary had bought all the supplies she needed from the store, she headed home. Her mission was simple: place a baby doll in Sam’s crib and set the nursery aflame. She figured that no one would want to look too closely at what they thought to be a dead baby, especially one that was burnt to a crisp.

She sloshed John’s stash of emergency gasoline all over Sam’s room, painting the alabaster walls in a sickly brown sheen. She made sure to coat the curtains thoroughly, they would be the starting point of her fire. The fake baby was placed into the crib after that, and she tenderly kissed it on the head.

 _Goodbye Sammy_ , she thought. _This is for your own good._

Without shedding a single tear over the son she had just lost, Mary struck a match. She held it carefully to the curtains, letting their edges catch fire before hastily leaving the room and shutting the door behind her. As she ran from the house Mary made her hair look as disheveled as possible and smeared her makeup with the sides of her fists.

Once in the front yard she waited until the fire had exploded through the window of the nursery before calling John. She pretended to be hysterical with grief, screaming about how when she went up to check up on Sammy she saw the flames lapping at the door.

“I couldn’t get the door open! The flames were making the handle too hot to grab!”

John, while he could feel Mary’s nervousness, didn’t know that she was only scared of getting caught and not for the well-being of her child.

“ _Shit_ , Mary. I’m sure Sam is fine, okay? Call the fire department, I’ll be there as soon as I can be.”

Dean was scared. He could feel his baby brother’s fear.

“Daddy? Why is Sammy scared? I can feel it, I don’t like it.”

“Don’t worry son, there’s been an accident, but I’m sure Sam is fine.”

Knowing his father had never told him a lie before, Dean relaxed.

_If Daddy says Sammy is okay, then Sammy is okay. I shouldn’t worry._

* * *

 

Back at the orphanage, Bela Talbot was getting her first look at Sam.

“So he was just left there? On the doorstep?”

Meg Masters, Bela’s favorite servant, was the one who had found Sam. “Yes madam, when I came to the door he was there. I looked around to see if anyone was with him, but I saw no one.”

“Well, I guess we shall keep him then. At least this means there is less paperwork to take care of.”

Bela sat took Sam from Meg and kissed the child on the nose with a laugh.

“I’ll entrust him to you, Meg. Once he is old enough I’ll expect him to be trained like all the others, understand?”

“Of course madam. He will be nothing short of the best your company has to offer. I’ll make sure of it.”

Meg retrieved Sam’s carrier from Bela and turned to leave, calling over her shoulder.

“Bela? What should we call him?”

It only took a moment of contemplation before Bela had decided what Sam’s name would be for next sixteen years.

“Great question, love. I think we should call him…Boy. There is no need to give him a real name, for they only lead to attachment. And we can’t have that, can we?” Bela gave a sly smile, an evil glint in her eyes.

Meg laughed as she walked away.

“We’re gonna be the best of friends Boy, I promise.” She looked down at Sam with a wink.


	3. The Truth

**1 week later**

“So, what you're saying is, someone set the fire? And the ‘remains’ in the crib wasn’t even a real baby? How can that be!”

“Mr. Winchester, I know this is probably very hard for you to process right now. But yes, that is exactly what I’m saying. Our pyrotechnic analysts have plenty of evidence that suggests your wife was the one who set the fire. The baby in the crib was a cheap doll, and her DNA was all over it. Your son's real remains were no where to be found.”

John felt as if the whole word had just crumbled beneath his feet. He couldn’t believe that Mary, his soul mate and the mother of his children, could ever do such a heinous thing.

Mothers just didn’t throw away their own children like that, the bond they shared was too sacred. Certainly, Mary must have understood this.

“Officer, that can’t be correct. Mary would never do such a thing! Faking her own son’s death is out of the question.”

“Mr. Winchester, once again, our team has found _insurmountable_ evidence that puts Mary as the culprit. I’m sorry sir, but it is true. I’ll let you go now, so you can process this new information. Members of my team will be by later today to pick up your wife, we will be evaluating her mental state as well as interrogating her on the matter. I would advise you to place a restraining order against her. Good day.”

After John had hung up the phone, a wave of nausea hit him.

_Fuck, I’m going to be sick._

He rushed into the nearest bathroom and hunched over the toilet. He vomited up that morning’s bacon and eggs, made by the devil herself.

 _I can’t believe she would do something like this_ , he thought. _What am I going to do?_

Just as he flushed the toilet, John heard the sound of Mary coming down the stairs.

“Honey? Are you alright? I felt you get sick, do you need me to run to the store and get you some medicine?”

John stood up and confronted Mary at the end of the stairs with an angry sneer.

“What I _need_   is for you to explain to me why you set that fire in the nursery. Then, you are going to tell me where my son is. Preferably _before_ the cops get here to take you to prison.”

John could feel the wave of disbelief and fear that waged its way through Mary’s system. He blocked it out, wanting to feel no sympathy for the woman who had taken his son from him.

“John! I cannot believe you would accuse me of such a thing! I loved Samuel just as much as you did, and I’m not blaming his death on you! What is this all about?”

John huffed angrily and pointed a punishing finger in Mary’s direction.

“This is about you giving away my son! _Our_ son! The police have a case against you Mary, they’ve put you as the cause of the fire! Now tell me where the _fuck_ my son is Mary, before I do something I might regret.”

Mary scoffed indignantly and crossed her arms over her chest. John could feel her anger and shame through their bond.

“He was a freak of nature John. You should be glad I got rid of the damn thing, he was going to ruin our lives.”

John backed away in shock, while he had known that the police told him the truth, hearing it straight from the horse’s mouth shook him to the core.

“Mary what the hell are you talking about? He’s a fucking baby for Christ sake! What kind of damage could an infant do?”

Mary looked at John as if he was the stupidest person she had ever seen.

“He had Dean’s name as his soul mate mark, John! He was a fucking _incestuous freak_!”

John couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Mary had given Sam away because of something none of them could control?

 _Unbelievable_.

“What the actual fuck Mary? You threw Sam away because his soul mate was Dean? Dammit, there was nothing we could do about that! It’s a fucking sign from the big man himself! It’s a sign from God! If he says Sam and Dean are to be soul mates who the hell are we to say anything about it! We don’t know what he has planned!”

Mary shoved passed John and headed into the kitchen to get a drink.

“Look, obviously you haven’t come to the same conclusion about this as I have, darling. But it’s okay, give it a few more days. You’ll see my side.”

John had had enough of Mary’s bullshit. So he did the only thing he could think of.

“No Mary, I will never come to the same conclusion you have. And because of what you have done, I-I have to…I have to reject your title as my soul mate.”


	4. The Rejection

     Mary looked at John as if he had sprouted two heads and a third eye.

     "J-john, let's talk about this. Sweet heart, what you're talking about is permanent. Once it's done, it's done! There's no turning back from it."

     "I know Mary, and that's why I have to do it. I can't bear being connected to you for another minute, you threw away our son."

     John shook his head.

     "No, _my_ son. You have no right to be called his mother anymore."   

     Mary tried to protest once more, but was silenced by a crescendo of pain that made its way through both her and John. The separation of their souls had already begun.

     Soul separation was a grueling process, the longest known case took over three hours to complete. How it happened was explained in the Bible, and it could only be completed if one soul mate had probable cause for the rejection. God had to approve of the rejection, and this was so no one would come to regret their decision later on if it was simply a heat of the moment decision.

     First, the tethers that hold the bond between the souls together begin to decay.

     The atoms that make up the soul mark, the name on the collarbone, crackle and fizzle. It's almost like a miniature inferno inside a person's chest, removing all proof of their bond ever existing. This is visible on the outside as well. It looks as if the mark is alive, writhing and crawling on the skin before it disappears with a spark. Afterwords, it is as if the person never had a name there in the first place, smooth pale skin covering the area. 

     The second step in the process is the removal of the emotional anchors between the two soul mates.

     Inside the brain there are transmitters that allow communication between both people's emotions, and this is broken by a complete destruction of the nerve endings. The person's brain basically burns that part of itself away through a process known as 'neurosearing'. Once this process has begun it can not be reversed, its affects are permanent. There is no chance of the two ever regaining that type of emotional connection.

     The third, and final, step is the separation of the souls themselves. This is the part that is known to take the longest time to complete.

     An ethereal glow surrounds the soul mates, and this is thought to be the physical embodiment of their souls. The color of each soul varies from person to person, it is thought to be based off of the person's life choices and decisions.

     In this case, John's soul was a pure, crystalline blue while Mary's held a deep burgundy stain. 

     The souls pulsate around the couple, looking like they are dancing to an unheard beat. It is a supernova of energy that sparks and crackles between the two, a result of all the energy it takes to separate the souls completely. A horrible screeching sound can be heard, and one can even see the souls rip themselves apart from one another. This is the part that hurts the most, a terrible, all consuming pain envelopes both of them. Their screams could be heard for miles it seemed. 

     Once the process was over, both John and Mary promptly passed out, unknowing that their eldest son had witnessed the whole process.

* * *

 

     Dean was worried.

     He could hear his mommy and daddy yelling downstairs. Their screams didn't help the Sammy hurt in his chest.

      _"Sammy is alive daddy! I promise! I can still feel him being scared. He can't be dead if I can still feel him!"_

_"Son, when someones soul mate dies it isn't uncommon for some of the person's emotion to be replayed over and over again in the other person's mind. Sammy is gone buddy. I'm sorry. So sorry."_

He headed downstairs, hoping his presence would calm to the two down. But, what he saw scared him half to death.

     "Momma! Dadda!" he screamed.

      He didn't understand what was going on, to him it looked as if a weird ghost thingy covered his parents writhing figures on the floor. 

     "Get off my parents!" he yelled, batting at the 'ghost'. 

     He didn't get very far with this plan, for the souls were nothing but pure energy. The energy lashed out at him and cut him across the cheek.

     Tears welled in Dean's eyes, his face was bloody and he didn't know how to help his mommy and daddy get away from the ghostie.

     He sat there next to his parents, face bloody, hands bloody, snot and tears running down his face, his screams of help echoing harmoniously with the pained ones of his parents.  

     Once the ghostie had gone and Dean had-unsuccessfully-wiped the snot from his face, he approached the unmoving figures of his parents again.

     He shook John once.

     "Daddy?"

     He gave Mary the same treatment.

     "Momma?"

     He tried this a couple more times before giving up. He didn't know how to properly use a phone yet, so that was out of the question. The next best thing he could do was go get their neighbor. Uncle Bobby.

* * *

 

     Bobby opened his front door to find a crying, bleeding Dean Winchester. 

     "Christ son! What happened to you?"

     He crouched down to get a closer look at the cut on Dean's face. 

      _Shit_ _, that's gonna scar. Poor boy._

"Can you tell me what's happened son? Where's your momma and daddy?"

     Dean sniffled and wrapped his tiny arms around Bobby's neck.

     "A ghost was hurting them Uncle Bobby! You gotta come over and help 'em!"

      Bobby was confused, to say the least. Ghosts didn't exist, at least, if they did he didn't think they'd attack people as pure as John and Mary Winchester.

     "A ghost?" Dean nodded his head in confirmation.

     "Alright son, take me to it."

     What bobby encountered in the Winchester's kitchen was a shock. John and Mary were both sprawled out on the floor passed out, a drink--Mary's water--was spilled all around them, and there was blood on the floor from Dean's cheek.

      "Fuck! Dean! Get me a phone, now!"

     Dean hurried to complete his uncle's requests, shoving the phone into the older man's hands.

     "Here!"

     "Thanks." Bobby grumbled, dialing 911.

     "Yeah, Bobby Singer here. I think my neighbors may have had a Rejection....Yes ma'am I'm at their house now, with their eldest son, Dean....their last name is Winchester, there was a fire here about a week ago. Thank you, please hurry!"

     Bobby hung up with a sigh, and patted Dean's head.

     "Don' you worry buddy. Daddy and Momma are gonna be just fine, okay?"

     Dean sniffled, "Okay, Bobby. I trust you."

     _What's gonna happen now?_

     

     

 

 


	5. The Child Prodigy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave comments letting me know what you think so far! Kudos are much appreciated.

      After the Rejection, the police came to receive Mary Winchester from the hospital. When they arrive at her address, however, they were greeted with the flashing lights of an ambulance. Upon arriving at the hospital they learned that they needed to wait 24 hours to arrest Mary, in order to allow the body to recuperate from the exhaustion left behind.

     Mary was sentenced to life in prison, for purposefully separating two soul mates was a grave crime and was not tolerated under any circumstances. Her lawyer convinced her to plead insanity, and she was allowed refuge at a psychiatric facility in Arizona. She would remain there for life, under constant surveillance and monitoring. She would never hurt the Winchester men again.

     Dean was very confused as to what was going on. His daddy had told him that Sammy was, in fact, alive, but it was his mommy's fault he was gone. Dean didn't like that, why would mommy take away his baby brother from him? He still loved her, but was angry at her all the same. And while he did eventually grow out of his childish love for her, that anger would forever remain.

* * *

 

         _Back at the Orphanage, 5 years later_

     Meg stayed true to her word, and as soon as Sam was five years old, his training to be the best slave Bela had to offer began. Originally, Meg had wanted to get his vocal cords cut sooner-a crying baby was in no way good for her sleep schedule-but Bela refused.

     "Let him learn to talk, let him get used to it. And as soon as he has gotten comfortable with his voice we'll take it away from him." Bela chuckled evilly. "There's nothing I love more than seeing a once chatty child learn that they are no longer able to speak."

     Meg grinned in agreement.

     It was now Sam's fifth 'birthday', but it was more of an anniversary really. They 'celebrated' his growth on the same day he was dropped off as an infant.

     "Boy!" Meg called, and Sam came running.

     "Madam Bela and I have a very special surprise for you today, as you've finally turned five!"

     Meg reached down to ruffle his shaggy, brown hair. Sam almost flinched at the contact. He thought Meg was going to hit him, and Sam knew it would have been for his own good-he was a bad, bad boy after all. That's why his family had abandoned him as a baby.

     The almost affectionate touch startled him.

     "I'm five?" He questioned, his 'v' sounding more like a 'b' in his mouth. He had just lost another tooth, and wasn't quite used to talking without it quite yet.

     Meg nodded with a small smile.

     "And you know what that means my Boy?"

     Sammy squealed in delight and hugged Meg around the neck, he hadn't quite learned the no touching unless told rule yet.

     "I get to see other kids like me!" Meg laughed as she pried Sam off her neck.

     "Yes Boy, you'll get to see other kiddies. Right after your gift!"

     Meg coaxed Sam into following her down to a room known as the "Red Room". Sam knew he wasn't supposed to go there under any circumstances, so he was a little scared.

     "But! Bela will get mad Megs!" Meg shushed him and grabbed him chubby hand in hers.

     "Don't worry, she told me to bring you here." Sam nodded, harnessing the calm he felt in his chest.

     Bela and Meg said it was from a boy named 'Dean'. He was supposed to be Sam's soul mate, and that's why his name is on Sam's chest. Sam still doesn't understand why he's got an ugly scar there though, Bela said it was because Dean didn't want Sam and tried to burn his name off his chest. Sam doesn't think that's true though, he can feel how much Dean misses him sometimes. It makes him wonder how he really ended up here in Bela's care.

     If Dean did love and miss him, why was he given away?

     He didn't have too much time to think about it, however, Meg was pushing him into a reclining chair in the middle of the Red Room.

     "Drink this Boy, when you wake up you'll be able to see your gift!"

     Sam drank.

* * *

     When Sam woke, he was assaulted by a bright light shining in his eye. When he tried to protest, nothing but a weak huff would come out of his mouth.

     "It seems as if the procedure was a success my lady, I hope you will be pleased with the results. The only scar left behind is a small one, it shouldn't put too much of a damper on his beauty."

     This was a strange voice, raspy in quality, like how Sam would imagine a snake would talk. Opening his eyes fully Sam saw that it was a tall, scraggly man that sometimes came by the home. Sam had never heard his voice before this moment.

     "Hmm, I suppose not. Thank you Alistair, I'll summon you shall I need your services again.

     Alistair sneered.

     "You make it sound as if I am some demon you can call upon any time you wish."

      Bela turned to him with a glare, "You are close enough to it, are you not? Now leave, before I decide to get creative with a scalpel."

      Alistair left with a malcontent 'humph'. Bela closed the distance between her and Sam, Meg stayed a close distance away.

     "How do you like your present Boy? You won't be able to whine about it, that's for sure." An evil laugh escaped from Bela's throat. She whipped around to face Meg.

     "Meg! You take him to where the others are held, let him get a taste of what is to come. His training is to start tomorrow, understand? Do not go easy on him, he has lived a privileged life compared to the others so far, but that is to end now. As of tomorrow he will be the samplings for my company's merchandise. I want him to be perfect, anything less and I will not be pleased. I will give you one year from today, to prove to me he is the best."

     Meg nodded profusely, a determined glint in her eyes. 

     "Yes madam! You'll see."

     Meg exited with a silently sobbing Sam in tow. He was terrified of what was coming next, and even the soothing calm he felt coming from Dean did nothing to ease the ache in his own mind. 

     Sam knew, he was doomed.


	6. The Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So sorry for the delay on posting, I have had some family issues come up. Hopefully I can get on a semi-regular posting schedule now. Enjoy!

     Pain. All Sam could ever feel was Pain. Morning, noon, and night. The torture never stopped. 

     He supposed it could be worse, for some of his cellmates' lashings could make even the toughest stomach hurl. They often came back battered and bruised, bloody and broken, carried by a guard and thrown into a slump on the floor. The guards didn't care if their rough treatment made you ache worse or deepen the cuts covering your body, the only thing they cared about was carrying out the torture.

     When a guard came you were to get into the submissive's pose immediately; on your knees, sitting back, up tall, chin up, and eyes downcast. If you couldn't conjure up enough strength to get there you had better hope one of your cellmates was quick enough to maneuver you there. Otherwise, you might come back worse than before.

     So, there Sam was, in his position hoping not to be called out of his cell. He had heard Bela talking about a potential customer earlier in the week, and he knew what that meant. For him, it meant 24 hours of round the clock fucking. He was the sample goods for Bela's company, and he didn't think that that would change any time soon. For the others, his torture meant a day of rest. 

     Footsteps were approaching his holding cell and all Sam could feel was the ball of dread that sat at the pit of his stomach. It never went away fully, only softened or intensified at certain moments. Now, he could feel it claw its way up his esophagus and into his throat practically choking him. To some this might have seemed quite frightening, having this ball of fear take away your speech, but Sam was used to it. His voice was taken away years ago.

     Sam was sixteen now, and has been working for Bela since he was five. He doesn't remember anything of his life Before, and maybe that's because he's always been here. He's not really sure. What he does know, however, is that he is not supposed to be. Deep in his chest he can feel the longing his soulmate Dean has for him. It gets overwhelming sometimes, and distracts Sam from his work. Bela is never happy when this happens and always doubles up his punishments for 'making her company look bad'. Sam doesn't care very much, not so long as he can still feel Dean. 

     Dean is Sam's escape. Whenever he feels like he can't go on or that there is no one out there to help him, he calls upon Dean. Sometimes, when he calls upon Dean's emotion it feels like they are the only two that exist. Sam can get lost in the love and devotion felt there, and it just feels so  _good._ For Sam to know that there  _is_ in fact someone out there ready and waiting for him to escape, someone ready to hold and cherish him, it lets him know that Bela and her goons are wrong. No matter what they say about him being unloved or uncared for, he knows that he will always have Dean to come back to. 

     "Boy!" 

     This shout breaks Sam out of his stupor, knowing that they are calling upon him. He dutifully stays in position as his cell door is unlocked and opened, waiting for his next orders. 

     "I have a very special guest here to meet you my Boy, and I want you to be on your best behavior. If you can do that, and I get him to sign this contract, maybe I will allow you to sit in the window room. Sound good?"

     Sam nods once.

     The window room is a small room located at the end of the hall. It has whites walls, no furniture, and a single pane window. Rarely is anyone seen going into that room. It is only opened when someone has done something exceptionally well and Bela is in a giving mood. Sam himself has only been in the three times in his short life. 

    For Sam the window room is what he strives for every day. And while he knows that he is unlikely to ever get it, the hope of simply feeling the sunshine on his skin for a brief moment-as well as Dean-helps him push through whatever torture is lined up for him that day. 

     Sam is ordered up and a chain is clipped to the thin black collar wrapped around his neck. He is led through the hallway and up the stairs into the main part of the orphanage and into the blue room. A man is there waiting for him on the edge if the bed.

     "Well, well, Bela. It seems as if he  _is_ quite a beauty. Is her for sale?"

     The man's voice has a smoker's quality to it, like he smokes cheap cigars just for the heck of it. It sends shivers running down Sam's spine.

     "'Fraid not, Crowley. He is simply a tasting of what is to come if you are to sign this deal with me."

     Bela walks over to the man as he makes a dissapointed sound.

     "Oh shut it, you knew beforehand my Boy here was not to be sold."

     Crowley laughed.

     "That I did, I was just hoping maybe you'd have changed your mind."

     "Never in million years. This here is my golden child, I couldn't ever let him get away from me."

     Bela claps her hands together excitedly.

     "So, now that we've got the pleasantries out of the way, why don't you two have some fun?"

     She leaves the end of the leash in Crowley's hands and gives them both a wink.

     "I'll see you both tomorrow. G'Bye!"

     And with that, Sam is left at Crowley's mercy.

* * *

 

     Dean had never felt Sam in so much pain. He had been on his way to his last period of the day when it hit him. It was an all consuming pain, unlike anything he had ever felt before.

     It had started in his head and worked its way quickly throughout the rest of his body. He immediately stopped, several people running into him and making disgruntled noises. This only served to intensify the pain. Dropping to his knees on the floor Dean let out a groan the reverberated throughout the hallway.

      _Sam, Sammy, Sammy, Sam_

     This mantra was on repeat throughout his head as he lay in the floor screaming and writhing, he never knew a person could feel so much pain at once. What hurt even worse was that it was his  _Sam_ feeling these things, not Dean. Dean was only getting a fraction of the real thing, and he couldn't imagine what Sam felt.

     All around him kids were screaming for help, not knowing how to handle the situation. They all knew Dean as 'the strong one', they had never seen him scream and cry like this before. It was a shock to the whole school. 

     Teachers rushed out into the hallway, forming a protective circle around Dean. One of them notified the principle to call Dean's father and let him know what was happening, and another called 911. Not too long after, sirens were heard and Dean was rushed out into the ambulance.

     The last thing Dean can remember before the all-consuming darkness crashed over him was seeing baby Sammy's face, and knowing that he had to hold on for him. 

      _I love you Sammy._

* * *

      Sam had never been with anyone quite like Crowley. Most people were never gentle with Sam, but they were never quite as rough as Crowley either. 

     Immediately after Bela had left Crowley yanked  _hard_ on Sam's leash, forcing him to let out an angry puff of air.

     "C'mon now, love. You didn't think I'd go easy on you now, did you?" 

     Sam wants to laugh and say:  _Of course I fucking didn't you insurmountable ass._ But, of course, his throat won't allow it.

     "Now pet, lie on the bed here. On your front."

     Sam did as he was told, and what came next would forever haunt him.


End file.
